Because He WANTED to...
by jynkang
Summary: what if YOUR son had to die? What was God thinking about? *find out in this article* Pls r/r thx


Because He wanted to…  
  
There was news of a virus spreading around the country, around the cities, around the world. A message was passed around the Internet, warning people to check the new strain of virus that had broken the records for implications. Nobody cared, they never believed this nonsense that anything that serious could be for real. The message was simple, it merely requested, politely, for the masses to proceed to the nearest clinic and test for that virus. There were some who cared enough…but most ignored it.  
  
They claimed it was a blatant, malicious lie some irresponsible clown created just for the intent of seeing people scurry into the clinics, just to find out that the virus was nonexistent. They said those who went for checkups were spurring the clowns to continue their "reign of terror". So on the first day the virus was circulated, it went unchecked…  
  
It was too late for most when they realized they caught it. It made headlines in every country in the world the very next day. The virus that was informed to everyone in the world went ignored, unnoticed; yet it was passed onto everyone, sparing not the young, old or middle aged. Not the innocent or the guilty. Never had the most famous physicians or surgeons or researchers had any notion of the virus beforehand. It was a mystery on how the message was passed on so quickly…but that was not the point. No one stopped to bother about that mystery… the problem was the virus. .  
  
The epidemic was more lethal than any compound or strain ever known. It passed through the air, through touch, through water, fire, metal or earth. Any known religion then could not stop it, neither did any form of medication work, be it Chinese or Western diagnosis or treatment. The legendary healing powers of acupuncture or Western drugs proved useless. The new virus was open to a unlimited boundary for infection. And so it did. The implications of the disease were terrible. It was worse then aids, small pox, typhoid and cancer added together.  
  
The disease, it was rumoured, would cause internal pain and bleeding for 10 years, a slow, monotonous, dulling torture that in the end killed the victim. The patient would break out in cold sweat for ten days, and fever for the next ten, alternating between the two. His cheeks would sink in, and his neck glands swell, resulting in a horrible, distorted appearance. Death would seem the one and only relief to the unending pain and suffering.  
  
By the next few days, practically everyone had gone for checkups. Everybody somehow caught it from the environment, friends, acquaintances. A vaccine could be created, we heard, but only from someone who had not been infected. We had to get the vaccine from the last person ever to get infected! Hope was so slim it hurt just to think of that. Death seemed an unavoidable yawning cavern looming ahead. The newspapers reported that suicide numbers leaped multiple times since the first day the virus was reported, which seemed a thousand years ago.  
  
Everyone blamed each other; husbands and wives turned cold, but silently weeping for the loss of their happiness…children became too lethargic to squabble, they could only cry and beg for relief from their parents who in truth were breaking inside. Teenagers lost their youth, their exuberance fled like a shadow as the velvet cloak of death descended on their shoulders, choking off their vibrancy that was due them. The old were too tired to complain; they bore the pain haggardly, thinking in their own ways the world was ending soon. There was no longer any sign of love, kindness or empathy. Everyone was caught in his or her own struggles. I brought my family along for a check-up, and we were one of the last to have it. The results would be out in a day…  
  
Suddenly, a hush descended on the world. A silence so loud it pounded in the listener's ears. There was a cure. It was any part of the uninfected person grafted or injected into any sick patient.  
  
The uninfected person had saved the world, but the uninfected person was my son. Doctors and physicians poured into my house like an avalanche. They were crying for joy and the nurses were sobbing uncontrollably into their hands. I felt a strange sense of detachment and loss. The doctors did not specify how they were to conduct the procedures…it seemed they did not dare to look at my son…by the very next hour, through word of mouth, the whole country knew about the cure. They flocked in unruly hordes to my house, gazing with a hunger that chilled me…some tried to force their way in, carrying syringes and scissors along with them. I felt very scared. I asked the doctor…what if they killed my son? The doctor just looked away embarrassed. I questioned further…what are you going to do to him? The doctor stammered back…. We…we never kn…knew he was g…going to be so young…  
  
I was too shocked to cry out and too anguished to answer. I knew where the conversation was headed…my son…I asked the doctor "How much do you need?"  
  
He said desperately, fervently, "We n…need it…it all…we need it all! We need him! We need all of him!"  
  
I tried arguing, "Can't you find a replacement? Can't you find someone else?"  
  
  
  
He just shrugged, "We cannot prolong this further…many people have started showing symptoms…they need it…don't you see them looking in from the window?"  
  
I shouted back, "Why can't you find another person? Surely my son cannot be the last person in the world?" The doctor rushed on, "You…you don't understand…the world needs it! We need it now! Can you allow it?" Then he stopped and took a deep breath. He continued in an emotionless, unbothered tone, "Can you talk to him? We have to start soon…in 15 minutes?"  
  
Was that enough? Was that enough to see my son the last time? I told him, "Son, I love you and would never leave you if I had to. Do you see? Do you understand?"  
  
But my son cut in, "D…dad…do I have to?"  
  
And I looked, heartbroken, into his face. I was crushed. I nodded and left…I smiled numbly to the doctor who was standing just outside the door. A relieved smile escaped him. He ran eagerly into the room…  
  
The world was saved that day. But my son died.  
  
The funeral to honour him was done on the third day. Many forgot or overslept. Only some came up with fake smiles and pretended they cared. I wanted to yell at them, I wanted to hit them and wake them up. I wanted to shout back: MY SON DIED FOR YOU BECAUSE HE HAD TO! DON'T YOU CARE?  
  
Is that what God wanted to say? Or did he say: My Son died for you because he WANTED TO! Don't you see how much I care?  
  
**=======================================================**  
  
You see, just at the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly.  
  
-Romans 5:6  
  
  
  
This idea was taken from a chain mail, but is not a rip-off. Maybe you might have read it before, but I rewrote it. That chain letter really touched my heart when I read it. I just wanted to share it with you. God's love remains just as great as ever…this article is in the form of a story about my view about Jesus' death to me.  
  
*p.s. This story is not an allegory. Thx for reading and please review. 


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